


Transition Color

by likeabomb



Series: HQTransWeek2021 [6]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Background Poly, Genderfluid Character, Makeup, Other, Sexual Tension, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:00:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29509380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeabomb/pseuds/likeabomb
Summary: Yaku finds Kuroo doing their brows and gets roped into having his face done up. He doesn't mind this at all.
Relationships: Background Kuroo/Daichi/Yaku, Kuroo Tetsurou/Yaku Morisuke
Series: HQTransWeek2021 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137155
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23
Collections: HQ!! Trans Week 2021





	Transition Color

**Author's Note:**

> Written for #hqtransweek on Twitter and Tumblr!  
> Crossposted to my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/likeabomb_), come say hi!
> 
> Day 6: Transition
> 
> Inspired heavily by [chaosemmie](https://twitter.com/chaosemmie) on Twitter.

“Wh…”

Kuroo looks up from where they’re leaned over the mirror, a piece of string wrapped in a figure eight across their hands.

Yaku stands in the doorway, a drink in one hand, his phone in the other, blinking as confusion just deepens in his features the longer he can’t figure out what’s happening.

“Tetsu-chan, what are you doing?”

“Fixing my brows,” Kuroo hums, and there’s a smile that tugs at their lips. “What does it look like?”

“I-I don’t know! I have no clue.” Yaku stares for another moment and Kuroo goes back to what they were doing. He watches curiously from the hallway before taking a couple steps into the room. “That actually _works_?”

A brow that’s taking a sharp shape arches and Kuroo puts their hands down for a moment, though not letting the grip of the string go lax.

“Does it _look_ like it’s working?”

“How often do you do this?” Yaku asks, coming to sit down, entirely invested now. “How does it work?”

Kuroo goes back to what they were doing, explaining as they do, “How often are my brows great?”

Yaku thinks about it for a second, lips pursed and tugged to the side, “Always?”

Another sly little look and Yaku’s own eyebrows shoot up. He knew Kuroo does their makeup a lot, and sometimes takes quite a while to come out looking stunning, but he didn’t realize this much went into it.

“Don’t you draw them too?”

“Sometimes,” Kuroo hums, switching to the other brow, “I fill them in, usually, where they’re too sparse.” A long nail points to a little bit of patchiness.

“I didn’t… I didn’t know this much work went into it,” Yaku admits, looking over Kuroo’s open bag sitting beside their thigh.

“It’s work, but it’s fun, too. I wouldn’t do it as often as I do if I didn’t have fun with it too,” Kuroo smiles, and turns their head side to side a few times to make sure everything’s even before letting the string loose, setting it aside.

They put a hand just barely under their chin, head tilted a little. They close their eyes and still manage to look cheeky in the way they show off. Yaku grins, shaking his head at his partner.

“Beautiful, right?” Kuroo asks, opening one eye to make sure Yaku is looking.

“Stunning,” Yaku confirms, but it’s got the inklings of teasing laughter in the tone.

Kuroo catches that teasing and reaches to push Yaku’s knee.

“So, it’s fun?” Yaku asks, pinging the pull tab of his unopened drink a few times to give his hands something to do. He feels weird asking.

“It’s fun, relaxing, and it makes me feel good. Desirable, but confident too. The way you and Daichi always have to pick your jaws up off the floor makes me feel like I can do anything.”

Yaku’s face reddens and he pouts a little. They could just say he’s whipped. He glances again at the bag, and Kuroo, and something in him stirs. It was never often that he saw Kuroo in the midst of it like this, and seeing it like this makes it all feel… approachable, in a way. Like everything’s been shown with more clarity, in a different light.

“Is it confidence from doing it yourself or having it done at all?”

Kuroo digs around in their bag a little before plucking out a few things. The click of their nails against little glass and plastic bottles elicits some quiet kind of pavlov reaction in Yaku and makes goosebumps prickle down his arms.

“Both, I guess,” Kuroo doesn’t sound entirely sure, but continues, “Do you have a shirt or an outfit you wear that makes you feel like you could take on anything?”

Yaku finally pops the tab on his drink before taking a long sip. His thumb runs along the side of the can, collecting condensation.

“My dark jeans and that floral button up, tucked in with a few of the buttons undone. And my boots.”

“Your boots,” Kuroo coos gently, smiling, “I love your boots.”

“They’re pretty good boots,” Yaku agrees, eyes closed to just revel for a few moments.

“Well, that’s how it makes me feel. All of it. I like the freedom wearing makeup brings. I can look how I want, and push how I want to be perceived by others easier. And it’s nice me time, putting it on and taking it off.” Kuroo huffs a laugh, giving Yaku a look, “Gives me a break from you and Daichi.”

Yaku scoffs, rolling his eyes, “You wish you meant that.”

Kuroo’s painted toes reach out to nudge at Yaku’s leg, but they don’t answer. Yaku’s right, though, in a way. They love Yaku and Daichi more than they ever have words for. They frequently have trouble finding those words, but they know they’re loved in the other ways Kuroo shows it.

“What happened to,” Kurro’s voice pitches, “if you want to be more confident, just be more confident?” Yaku gets a sly glance as they shuffle through the bag again. This time, though, Yaku can see from the way they do it, they’re stalling. Curious.

“I mean, that only works so far, and for so many people. I wish it were that easy for everyone, but it’s not, even if I’ll keep saying it.”

A fond little huff, Kuroo props their chin on their hand, “So then why do you ask- ask what gives me what part gives me confidence? Curious, Yaku?”

“How terrible it would be for a boyfriend to be interested in his partner’s makeup routine.”

“Interesting phrasing.”

“Or _anything_ they do! Gimme a break!” Yaku pouts, squinting at Kuroo across from him.

Kuroo puts a hand on their chest, the other raised, feigning innocent, “Whatever you say, Yakkun, my love. I thought maybe you wanted to give it a try.”

Yaku stares for a few long moments, and Kuroo lets the silence stretch between them. Yaku’s exaggerated pout melts a little, slowly, and he looks away, taking a drink.

“I _did_ say I was curious, right?”

Sitting up a little, Kuroo grins, and something tells Yaku he’s done it now!

“Wait-”

“You’re not weaseling out of it now, Mori. C’mere.” Kuroo’s hand lands on his thigh and tugs him in closer. Looking closer now, at everything Kuroo had pulled out, there doesn’t seem to be any big flashy colors.

“You knew! Y-you-”

Kuroo only laughs, showing teeth in a delighted grin, “Don’t be a baby. You want bonding time with your partner or no?”

Yaku is the one, out of the three of them, who’s most often out of the house. He’s a very busy man with a lot on his plate, so when he _is_ home, he likes to spend as much time attached to the hip as he can get. The distance hasn’t tempered anything, it just makes him needy as hell when he’s home. Which means that he’s not going to complain about bonding time with Kuroo, even if it means he’ll sit under their ministrations for however long this takes. 

He suddenly can’t remember how long this usually takes Kuroo. Oh god.

“At least talk me through the torture,” Yaku moans, pouting his lips.

Kuroo leans in to peck those puckered lips and hums, “Well first off, don’t think of it as torture. I already said it makes me feel confident and strong.” They give one of his earlobes a tug and he pouts more, scrunching his face. “And besides, you were curious, so stop being a brat.”

He doesn’t have anything to argue against that.

“What comes first, then?” Yaku asks, and his tone is genuine this time. Much less pouting.

“You need a clean face. So I’m gonna wipe your face down.”

Blinking a disbelieving look, Yaku closes his eyes when they rip open a gentle cleansing wipe and rub it over his face. Their hands are careful, both so they don’t press too hard, but also so their long nails don’t poke. They swipe it over the nose and cheeks and eyelids and along the forehead and even under the chin. Yaku is surprised when he comes away feeling pretty damn refreshed.

“And after that, there’s moisturizing and priming.”

“How long does this whole process usually take?” Yaku asks, eyeing the little bottles. “Not hurrying you, genuine curiosity here. About what you do.”

Kuroo looks satisfied with the addendum to the question, and goes back to what they were doing, rubbing a clearish liquid into his clean skin.

“If I’m doing it in the morning after a shower, ten or fifteen minutes? It depends on if I’m going for a nude look, or something bold, and if I change my mind on the fly.”

“I guess it’s so short because you know what you’re doing?” Yaku tries not to turn his face into or away reflexively.

“Muscle memory, mostly,” Kuroo agrees. Then picks around for a different bottle, showing him the bottle, and then a little egg shaped spongy thing after, “Foundation, and beauty blender.”

Yaku nods before Kuroo gets to work with that too, dabbing the blender across his skin to spread the foundation evenly, continuing, “I’m not gonna have quite the right colors for you since we’re different tones, but I’m working magic over here.”

“You’ve barely done anything,” Yaku protests, brows squishing up.

“Says you.”

Kuroo picks up the hand mirror they’d been using and turns it to show Yaku his own face. They were right, the color’s a little off, but not as bad as it used to be. Yaku’s gotten more sun recently than when they were in highschool, and the tan on his cheeks closer matches Kuroo’s natural darker tone.

What floors him, though, is the fact all of his freckles are gone. They were more pronounced with the sun he’s been getting, but now his skin looks smooth, though not dull or flat.

“Alright, so you’re a witch and that’s magic.”

Taking the mirror back, Kuroo smiles, happy with their work.

“That’s wild,” Yaku breathes, blinking at Kuroo. He lifts his hand to touch, to feel if there’s a difference, but Kuroo stops him.

“Ah- you’ll mess it up, don’t touch.”

The flush isn’t as obvious under the layer of foundation but Kuroo knows the roll of the eyes and shakes their head, lifting his hand to kiss his fingertips.

“What’s next?”

“Concealer. Or, it would be if you needed it. Do you really never have eyebags?” Kuroo asks, tilting Yaku’s chin up a little to look at his eyes and inspect.

“Not when I’m home. I sleep like a baby between you and Daichi.”

Yaku explains it as if it’s the simplest thing in the world, and the statement of fact like that gives Kuroo pause. Their eyes soften a little and their shoulders relax a little. Yaku smiles, a little at first and then a little more.

“You should see your face.”

Kuroo clicks their tongue, and without makeup, their red face is more obvious, “Don’t be a sap, Morisuke.”

A little swat to the thigh makes Yaku’s leg jump in surprise, but he ends up laughing it off.

“I’m away a lot, I know. You and Daichi are busy too, but you usually come home at the end of the day- unless you’ve got a business meeting. Being _home_ and in _our bed_ puts me at ease, y’know?”

Yaku, who never gets sick, never takes a day off, and never slows down, gets the best sleep of his life between his partners.

Kuroo glances away with a little wet huff before Yaku’s hand settles on theirs, folded on their leg. Kuroo’s thumb pulls up a little to rub over his fingers before drawing his hand in again to kiss his knuckles this time. These hard working busy hands.

Letting him have his hands back, Kuroo hums, “No concealer, you don’t need it! But it looks like this,” they show, pulling the wand from the bottle. “It’s my best friend.”

They don’t say it, but they sleep best with Yaku home, too. With how often he’s away, sleep can sometimes be tough.

“Powder after that gets rid of shine, makes your skin look a little more matte,” Kuroo explains, digging around again. “And after those, I do my eyebrows. Which… there’s three main ways, but they all do the same thing. I’d do yours, but I’m not a blonde twink, so I don’t have the right colors.”

Yaku gasps, reaching out to push at Kuroo’s, “Blonde twink?! Tetsurou!!”

The two end up toppling over laughing, and Kuroo rolls them over easily, using their height to turn the tides, pinning Yaku to the floor. They settle knees on either side of him to keep him there.

“Now what, Mori?”

Squinting up at them, Yaku’s lips tug a little but the answer is unexpected, “Whatever comes after brows, I guess.”

Kuroo busts with a laugh, a hyena cackle, head tossed back.

“Indoctrinated already!”

“Now you make it sound evil!”

“It might be! You remember the work party in May?” Kuroo asks, tugging the bag over to go through the little compartments.

Yaku lays on the floor staring up at them, and the way the afternoon sun comes through the window illuminates them from the left and makes them look ethereal. They always look incredible, but there’s a vulnerability right now, and Yaku’s not sure if it’s from being home, having no makeup on, or in the midst of a very trusting activity of applying _Yaku’s_ makeup, but it tugs at his heart hard.

Kuroo looks back to see the starstruck look when Yaku doesn’t answer their question and they tut gently before leaning down to give him a kiss. It’s feather light and nothing but their lips touch.

“Don’t wanna mess it up,” Kuroo mutters against his lips, and after knowing Kuroo for this many years, there’s a weight to the way they say it that makes Yaku’s hands settle on their thighs, squeezing gently. Reassuringly.

“You wouldn’t, I trust you,” Yaku answers.

Something swims behind Kuroo’s eyes, and they understand that Yaku’s answers had the same heavy meaning that their initial comment did. Another tiny peck is dropped against Yaku’s soft lips before they sit back up, still sitting on top of him, to get onto the next step.

“Bronzer, after that,” Kuroo says gently, bringing out a little palette and a big fluffy brush, showing him.

Reaching down, they push his face to the side a little before collecting some powder on the bristles and dragging it gently along his cheekbones and along the temple. It’s subtle, but effective.

Yaku turns his head for the other side when they’re done with the first.

When Kuroo pulls a couple other palettes and hems and haws over colors, Yaku peeks with one eye to watch them, but is content to just chill on the floor for a while. Their weight against his hips, sitting on him, is a good kind of pressure.

When they decide, they grab a different brush, with a smaller tip, and show Yaku, “For your eyelids.”

“It… doesn’t hurt, does it?”

Kuroo clearly tries not to crack a smile or laugh, “No, it doesn’t hurt, Mori-kun.”

Yaku’s lips purse again with a pout and Kuroo presses the blunt end of the brush between his eyebrows, “You’ll give yourself wrinkles. Close the eyes.”

Closing them for just a moment, Yaku peeks quickly at Kuroo, who gives him a look, and he shuts them again, snickering. This part takes a little longer, but Kuroo’s voice is soothing, and the glide of the brush isn’t as heavy as he feared it might be.

“Light shimmery color first, and into the corners of your eyes. A transition color between, and then a third mostly at the very corners of his eyes. When they’re done, they turn his chin gently, looking over their work, “Alright, open.” When he does, Kuroo smiles wide, “Ah, perfect.”

Pulling two tubes out, Kuroo warns, “Mascara.”

Balking under them, Yaku winces a little, “You’re not gonna poke my eye out with those things are you?”

“Yes, Yaku, I’m gonna jab you right in the eye. It’s been a long con the whole time.” Kuroo rolls their eyes, popping one open, “Better than sex.”

Choking on a laugh, Yaku bucks a little but doesn’t get out of the pin, “Wh-what?”

“The brand, you brat,” Kuroo bonks him in the head with the tube after deciding against it.

“Why would you name a brand that?”

Kuroo’s lips purse, “Marketing. If you see a display in a store that says ‘better than sex’, you’re gonna go investigate, aren’t you? See if it’s true?”

“I- no? I… alright, maybe,” Yaku fumbles, staring at the tube, then the others Kuroo is flipping through, looking for just the right one. This step seems the most complicated for some reason.

Giving a knowing and approving nod, Kuroo decides, and pops it open. It’s a thinner brush than the other one. The better than sex one.

“Alright, so I’m gonna put it near your eye, and I want you to _blink_ against it, okay? It’s the best way to coat your whole eyelash.” After a moment, they add, “I won’t poke you, I promise.”

The promise comes with a sneaky little smile, but Yaku believes they wouldn’t, even if they’re teasing about it.

He opens his eyes, hands still on Kuroo’s thighs, and tries not to let his eyes water reflexively in anticipation. Kuroo leans down over him and holds the brush at the right angle. So close to his eye, it warps his vision in a weird way. Yaku feels the brush against his lashes, though, and blinks slow and deliberate.

“Oh, there we go. You’re a natural, baby,” Kuroo coos, turning the brush, “Couple more and then I’ll do your bottom lashes.”

With a few angles of the brush, Kuroo’s breath mindling with Yaku’s so close, they hum gently, “Your lashes are so pale, you’re not gonna know what to do with these dark lashes, Yakkun.”

Yaku’s thumbs brush the soft skin almost on the inside of Kuroo’s thighs and they stop their hand, brush poised in front of his eye, to give him a look. He bites his lip a little when he looks up at them and they cap the mascara with a click.

Digging around a little more, Kuroo raises a couple of things and decides, setting the other aside. When they lift it to show Yaku, he snickers, arching an eyebrow, “You have colored pencils in your bag of wonders?”

“Yeah, I stole a box from a bunch of punk elementary schoolers,” they sneer, rolling their eyes fondly. “It’s a lip liner.”

One long nail brushes against Yaku’s lip and he draws a slow breath before Kuroo strokes over his lips gently with the pad of their finger, “I’m gonna move them around, try not to pout. I know that’s hard and all-”

This time, Yaku swats Kuroo’s thigh and they jolt. The look he gets is between a scowl and amusement. They’re _trying_ to be mad about it, but they just look like they want to kiss him stupid. He knows that look well.

They line Yaku’s lips carefully, and it’s a weird sensation that isn’t quite like he imagined it’d be, but all the same, it still feels like a slender tip, unlike anything else they’ve used today.

It gets capped and set aside and more clinking and soft tapping fills the quiet room. 

“You think I’m going to look good when you’re done?”

Kuroo’s hand stills and they offer a softer smile, “You always look good, Mori.”

“Tetsurou,” Yaku’s fingers curl against their legs. He wants kisses. This really is torture, even if he won’t say it.

“I think you’ll look good. It might not be your go to, but… this is fun.”

“Mm, yeah I could do this again.”

Kuroo sucks their teeth, peeking at Yaku out of the corner of their eye, “Are you saying that because you’re having fun too, or you just like being under me?”

Yaku feigns contemplation, nearly lifting a hand to hold his chin to do so, then remembers, and quickly puts his hand back, “Oh I don’t know, little column A, little column B?”

A shake of the head and Kuroo comes back with another two little bottles, and Yaku looks them over from the angle he’s at on the floor.

“Almost done!”

Pulling one of the two, the brush is tacky and wet, and Kuroo pulls it against Yaku’s lips gently.

“What’s that feel like? If you could describe it,” Kuroo hums, making a gesture with their own lips for Yaku to copy.

He purses his lips carefully, trying not to fuck up a motion he doesn’t really know how to do cleanly.

“... Ink?” Yaku asks. It’s smooth and slick.

Kuroo’s eyes shine as they reach to pat a finger against his lips, making sure the product stays in place, “That’s exactly right. It’s labeled as an ink matte liquid lip, something something.”

“Not better than sex?”

Trying not to laugh and mess something up, Kuroo is actually able to tap their own chin with a long nail, “I don’t think so, no. This stuff’s good, but…”

Yaku’s face splits into a grin and the way his lips tug feels a little different with makeup. It’s weird.

“One more, hang on,” Kuroo urges, and pulls a final brush to dab a little more on his lips and does the same motion but doesn’t dab at his lips this time. “There.”

“Can I see?” Yaku tries not to wiggle, looking for the hand mirror.

Kuroo pats around for it before finding it under the corner of one of the blankets. Pulling it over to turn and show him, they hold it so they can peek over it at his reaction.

The man in the mirror… looks pretty much like a glossy version of himself. He’d expected something different, something… more alien. There’s a glow and a shine to him, and his lips and eyelids are a ruddy pink, but he… he’s Yaku. Blinking owlishly, he realizes his eyes look huge with the mascara though; Kuroo was right.

“Well?” they ask, tapping nails impatiently.

“This is incredible, Tetsurou- I look… _good_.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Kuroo chides gently, taking the mirror away.

They lean in and over Yaku and the grip on their thighs gets a little heavier. Kuroo doesn’t complete the kiss, and Yaku isn’t sure if he should. It would probably mess up the hard work. So he doesn’t. But the hot breath that mingles between them, just barely ghosting over their lips, feels somehow even more intimate than a kiss might.

“Wh…”

Yaku and Kuroo look up at the sound to find Daichi standing in the doorway, looking on curiously, a brow arched.

When he sees Yaku’s face done up the way it is, the sight of Kuroo sitting on Yaku’s hips, in his lap, and Yaku’s hands on their thighs, and Yaku’s face picture perfect and stunning, Daichi’s jaw hits the floor.

Kuroo points, muttering gently, voice a little husky, “That’s what I’m talking about. There it is.”

His face is ruddy when he scrambles to compose himself, “E-enjoying yourselves?”

Yaku grins, eyes wandering Daichi’s frame a few times before calling, “C’mere!”

**Author's Note:**

> "Transition Color" is in reference to the mid tone used when doing eyeshadow. And maybe in other parts? I don't actually know how makeup works, forgive me.


End file.
